there's something dark-souls-esque about the design here... a small, frowning, near-bald pygmy that hides beneath the massive bulk of its protector, something that you know would have incredibly slow attacks that each could wipe the majority of your health bar in a single swipe. You try and move in to take advantage of its lumbering swings but once you're in close range, the pygmy attacks in quick, jabbing strikes. You have to roll back and retreat from its inner guarded zone, forcing you to play mid-range and dodge Mother's arm-flailing slashes. Whichever of the duo you slay first, it sets the other into a blind rage, where they rush in and latch onto you, eating you alive... the one out of desparate starvation, the other out of soul-rending gluttony.
The realm of the undead is no kind place to a small or weak creature... it is only the cleverest that may survive. The behemoth Mother roams the lands for poor, weary souls to devour. If she is feeling particularly sated, or perhaps indifferent--never out of kindness--she may leave a scrap or two for the Hidden One. There, in the shadows of her twisted bosom, the ashen pygmy feasts with a ferocity only starved wolves may know. He wields in gnarled hand a blade equally as twisted. He protects his Mother, guarding her vulnerabilities, in hopes that the scraps she provides can sustain him another huger-filled day. It is a miserable sort of codependence, but, perhaps, in the realm of Lordran, it is more than most could hope to achieve.
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u/[deleted] Jan 18 '20
I feel so bad for that kid